Peace, a Rory Story
by ICan'tStopBelievin
Summary: The Glee kids decide to take a stressed Rory to a spa over the weekend. Little do they know, someone is jealous of Rory and is out to get him. And that someone takes that jealously a little too far, turning back time for Rory and returning him to the days of sticky hands, coloring books and bug hunting. The Glee kids soon come to realize that it could actually do good. INCOMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own glee.**

_A/N: Finally! This is for SilverPanda113. I hope she enjoys!  
_

Dear SP113: I worked extra hard to get this up. I know it may be a very tragic time for you, and that it seems like there is no hope for happiness anymore, so I decided that this could just take you away from your issues for some time.

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Rory popped his eyes open once again, realizing he had dozed off... once hadn't woke up independently, as it had been Mr. Schuester who was lightly patting his shoulder and repeating his name.

"I-I am up, Mr. Schue!" the boy gasped, about jumping from the startle.

"Ror, you need to wake up, buddy." Mr. Schuester was now assisting him in getting on track, freshly sharpening the pencil and putting Rory's name on the assignment.

"I am sorry, Mr. Schue, but I'm just-"

"No need to apologize. Let's just try to get this work done." The kind teacher now pulled up a chair to sit. "I'll help you."

It was time to focus. Rory would get this work done, he would not let Mr. Schuester down. He took the pencil to the paper and made some progress, but soon exhaled with stress of an unknown source. As a mild headache settled in, he rested his head down on the table.

He couldn't finish this work. But why not? It wasn't the subject that was the problem, last he knew he was good with U.S. history. It's just, he was pretty exhausted. He didn't know what the reason was, or what it could have been.

"Rory? Come on, bud," he heard his teacher cheer, "Only four questions left. You already did three. Half way done."

"I am so, so, so sorry!" Rory gasped, after his head sprung up.

The cooperative man had a hand on his shoulder, now saying, "Calm down. We can do this. I'm here to help."

Rory smirked at his luckiness. Mr. Schuester had left behind his exciting Jazz Hands catalog and had ditched his comfortable seat to tend to him. So, because Mr. Schuester could push his rights away to help Rory, then Rory had enough potential to make him and his teacher proud by answering only four easy questions of which had answers that were probably able to get from the text book. The work was the least he could do. "Okay."

Rory had done two more questions now, and then began to wonder why he thought it was so hard. But then the headache grew, and all the whispers and rubbings of paper and pencil just seemed to blare in his ears as if the TV had been on volume 50.

This was horrible. He felt heavy fatigue, physically and mentally. This was only adding more pressure to what was of Rory's stress.

He stood, without a word, heading for the door. He did not respond to Will's questions of what was wrong and where he was going. He only went to the rest room, where he would have a few minutes alone to settle himself.

Damn it! So much damn pressure all on him at once!

What was it even from?!

All this-!

No. Rory had to get calm. He went in there to settle down. Rory looked to his lap, letting his head dangle with no tension. He just had to take deep breaths, yes, deep breaths. Sit down on the floor, take deep breaths, close his eyes, let it all go.

_Now, what's the issue, Rory? _

_Everything! Damn it, you should fucking know! _

He kept control of this breath, now noticing how he was gasping for air and dealing with a racing, anxious heart.

He just had to calm down. He wouldn't think of any troubles at all, only about how peaceful it could be if-

_There hadn't been all this weight stacked on top of his head! _

_Goddamnit, Rory! You need to just chill. Calm the hell down! _

But how could he?

There was so much going on for him. He had so much work, so many events, so little time, such decreased space. He was suffering more than he ever had. It was heartbreaking for him. So, so heartbreaking. What the hell anymore?

He tilted his head up, forcing tears to stay in his eyes. He hiccuped, quietly so no one could hear, ever so silent that he could not barely even hear himself. He bit his lip, consoling himself with hums and rocking motions.

But soon, his hurt heightened and he just exploded like a volcano, he found himself bursting into eye-drowning tears and wails left him as quick as it took him to escape the tension of the classroom.

This was not a good day. Maybe he would lie of vomiting or some diarrhea case, or possibly just take advantage of his terrible migraine, as he had been doing for about a week. Then he would have a ticket home - or to the Pierce's, actually, which was the closest to home he had. Oh, well. At least it would be quiet, work free, and everything he desired to do would be there for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own glee. **

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Brittany's mother, respectfully known as Mrs. Pierce, had parked the car and assisted very cranky Rory out, who had been tired and droopy due to some sleeping pills she had forced into him.

"I can help m'self!" he insisted, after she lightly grasped his arm.

"Honey..."

"No!"

"Let's just get you in the house, and we can get something to eat..."

Rory grumbled, struggling to tug his arm out from her grip.

"...then you can get some rest. Okay, sweetie?" She was very gentle and patient, cautious to not heighten Rory's fury.

He grumbled again, before completely giving up and letting her take over. He just followed where she led him, as he was too stressed to deal with life on his own. "Actu'lly, m' belly really hurts. Could you m'be c-?"

She sort of laughed when saying, "I don't know if I'm strong enough to even lift you off the ground, hon!"

Damn the house. No available parking in the front, only in the back. But there was no back door, only a front one, so you would have to travel all the way to the front of the house. Not very convenient, especially when you were stressed out and drowsy as hell.

Now Mrs. Pierce had a firm grip on Rory's underarm as they approached the porch. "That's it, sweetie. Up the steps." She supported his body as his foot touched the first step. She eased his body up straight as then went his other foot to meet the step.

He felt very unbalanced. He didn't really care actually, as he wasn't very enthusiastic about life right now. He could fall and knock his head, and he would accept it if it were to happen. At least he would have a break from reality, unconscious or... even death. _No, Rory Flanagan! Do not think that way! That is bad! Bad! _

Soon, the two had made it into the house where Rory had fallen onto the sofa. Mrs. Pierce was tending to him, with a rub on the back and soft voice. "Are you hungry, Ror? Brittany said you had your head down during lunch."

"**Of course I 'm hungry, damn it! I did not eat lunch! Why 'n hell wouldn't I b' hungry?! Now fuck you because you are just a dumb bitch!**"

"Rory?" She was as calm as she could've been, though she was just shocked at his outburst.

He was ready to cry now. He didn't mean to be so vulgar, so rude to her. It just came out. He couldn't apologize for some reason; even though he wanted to, he just couldn't. His lip quivered, which he knew that Mrs. Pierce had noticed.

"Rory, you want a nap?" Her tone was sensitive, and it seemed as if she just forgave him like a snap. As if he hadn't done anything.

Again, he knew that she had noticed his quivering lip. She probably noticed his about watery eyes, too. He just turned to his side and dug his face into the sofa cushion. He would not speak a word, nor even move a muscle. His stomach turned and his chest ached. This was so terrible. He was terrible. He was an ass.

Mrs. Pierce stood from her knees now. "I am going to make you some soup and you can have five minutes to settle down, then we will discuss this."

"I 'm such 'n ass," he finally spoke, his voice raspy.

"Please stop with the language. I know you aren't in your best now, and that the outburst was unintentional. But now, you seem to be able to control yourself so there is no excuse."

"I 'm s' sorry."

But Mrs. Pierce did not reply. She must not have heard him. At this moment, she was heating his soup on the stove, he could smell the tender chicken and thick noodles.

The door now slammed and giggles filled up the air. In ran Brittany and her sister, in her soccer gear. "Mom," he heard Brittany's sister say, "what's wrong with Rory?"

"He isn't feeling well," was Mrs. Pierce's response, "so you're going to have to be really quiet. And be extra nice to him."

Brittany hurried in the living room, wide-eyed and gasping. "Rory Leprechaun! Oh, my!" She slid onto the arm of the sofa and observed his slightly reddened face, his partially bloodshot eyes, his fairly sweaty neck. She felt his forehead and declared that he was somewhat warm, but not feverish. "Rory Leprechaun, don't be like this!"

Rory glanced up, saying, "Do not worry. I am fine. I just... need some rest."

"Mom! I'm taking Rory to his room!" Brittany shouted though Mrs. Pierce had only been a room away.

Mrs. Pierce hushed her, claiming of Rory's phase of frustration and his hot-headed state. She then told Brittany that it was okay, that Rory needed rest. She almost forgot to inform her, "You must support him on the way, never let go of your grip and take small steps. He can get really bad hurt if you're not careful."

"Okay, I'm not going to let him get hurt!" Brittany was now on her feet. "Come on, Rory Leprechaun. We are going to your room."

Rory found himself being turned around, and opened his eyes to be in Brittany's arms. She had lifted him up. She was slowly rocking him as a way of consoling him, and was on her way to his room. "Britt'ny..."

She hushed him, kissing his forehead. "You are going to get some rest."

"Britt'ny..."

"No." She hushed him again.

"**Britt'ny.**"

"What, Ror?"

"Put m' down. I can take m'self t' my room!" His drowsy-filled tone concerned Brittany, and it had taken a lot to take the cheer from that girl. She was ready to break down herself.

"I said, **put m' down!**" Rory was now very stubborn with his demand.

"No, Rory. I do not want you getting hurt! I will put you down when we reach the bed." She was firm with this.

Rory was now pouting. It wasn't fucking fair. He had caused some drama with Mrs. Pierce during the car ride and just a few minutes ago out in the living room. And now he was offering to do it on his own instead of being a burden to Brittany and making her do all of this for him. The least that could happen is for him to be able to do this on his own.

But apparently not. Brittany would help his ass. He did not deserve it. He did not deserve the kindness and tender love. Hell, he didn't deserve to be concerned about or even the small things, such as being carried to his bed.

To be honest with himself, he thought that he no longer deserved the room and bed even. Mrs. Pierce should have taken it away from him and kicked him out for the way he treated her.

He then caused himself to erupt in anger, fighting a war with himself. He polluted the entire house with shouted cursing and groaning, slapping Brittany and stirring in her arms in the process. He had soon tumbled himself to the ground, slamming his fists aggressively and kicking. He screamed louder than he ever has before. "**FUCK YOU, FUCK THIS, FUCK THAT, FUCK IT ALL! MOTHERFUCKING BITCHES, YOU! I THINK I CAN DO THIS MYSELF! BACK THE FUCK OF, DAMN IT! ALL THIS SHIT IS COMING, ACTUALLY I AM FUCKING WRONG, IT IS ALL FUCKING HERE! FOR PISS SAKE, GOD-FUCKING-DAMN IT! IT IS ALL A CUNT, CUNT, CUNT, CUNT! CUNTY HERE, BASTARDY THERE! OH, MY! IT IS SUCH A DICK! YOU'RE ALL DICKS! DICKS, DICKS, DICKS, DICKS! DAMN THIS SHIT! MY ISSUES CAN GO LICK A PUSSY FOR ALL I FUCKING CARE! FUCK IT ALL! FUCK IT! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! OH, WHY, OH, MY, LOOK! IT'S ALL JUST A PILE OF SHIT! SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! LIFE IS A HELLHOLE OF HOBKNOCKING BITCHES! BITCH, BITCH, BITCH, BITCH! ****ASS, ASS, ASS, ASS!**"

Rory shrilled as Mrs. Pierce had swung a spatula straight to his ass. He was now about settled down, still very teary though calmer. "I-I am s-sorry." He was full of shame. Much, much shame. He sat up on his stinging ass, looking at his lap, crossing his arms to restrain himself in the invisible strait jacket he had always used on himself. He suddenly burst to tears and gasps, clenching his teeth until his gums cramped.

Mrs. Pierce was seated on the floor behind him, running fingers through his hair to console him.

"No."

"'No' what?"

"No. Don't." He fidgeted his head until her hand left.

He was an ass.

Then again, it wasn't his fault that he was this way. It was life's fault for making him deal with this shit. And this caused him to be stressed, and very cranky.

Only if there would be peace, just once...


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own glee.**

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Next Monday, a bright and cheery day, Rory agreed to return to school. The day hadn't been too bad, until Glee club...

Will had preached on and on and on and on about some cunt from the 80's. Rory didn't give a shit. He interrupted without the raise of a hand. "I need to leave."

Will suspected it had been some emergency as he didn't raise his hand and demanded rather than asked. "What's wrong? Why?"

Rory said, straight-out and frank, "I don't want to be here. Why else would I be leaving?!" This earned a few unintended laughs, which pissed Rory off.

"Rory, calm down." Finn patted the boy's shoulder.

"No, Finn. You are not my boss."

Will sighed, "Yes, Ror. Maybe you do really need to leave. It's after 3 and Mrs. Pierce is off work, so I'll call her to come get you."

Rory crossed his arms and puckered his lips.

It wasn't long until Mrs. Pierce had arrived. She went directly to the choir room, where Rory was throwing a hissy fit, so she could personally escort him out to the car.

Now in the parking lot, Rory continuously ranted about everything he could think of. "First of all, the french fries at lunch were too hot. I burned my damn tongue. It ain't right to feed kids that harsh shit they call 'food.' Second of all, Mrs. Castle's room was colder than Mr. Freeze's lair. Mrs. Hagberg's room was hotter than the Sahara. And yes, I've been there before. The Sahara, not the lair, obviously, since it don't exist. Stop being so stupid!"

"Rory, sweetheart," she rubbed his back to soothe him, "let's just find the car and we can go home and you can take another nap."

"**I DON' NEE' NO NAP!**" That woman was fucking crazy! She would hope that she was only joking with him...

"Hush."

"**YA DON' TELL ME WHA' TO DO! DAMN WOMAN!**"

She glanced around the area for any witnesses. She was hesitant, but she had stood him to face a wall and placed an open hand on his ass. "I will spank you if I need to. Right here and now, you can get up to five here."

"Ya ain't gon' spank me!" he chuckled, as if it were just some kind of joke.

She raised the hand from his ass in a threatening manner.

"Ya ain't gon' spank."

"Oh?" she challenged. She smacked his ass within a split second, forcing a large gasp from him.

The pain ripped straight through his skinny jeans and boxers. He pulled back, putting hands on his burning ass and stumbling. "My God, that stung like a bitch!"

"Go back up on the wall, Rory."

"No!"

She repeated, firmly and sternly, as if this would be her last time.

"No!"

"Well, then. I guess if you won't go up on the wall and take your spankings, then we will just have to go to the car." She squeezed his arm and dragged him over and into the car.

"So, I am not getting my spankings?" he asked, lit up in a satisfied manner.

She snickered, starting the car. "Hell no! You're not just getting out of your punishment this easy, mister! Now as we head home, you can look forward to a good whooping."

"No." Rory didn't approve of this! He'd been having a bad day already. He didn't need to be bent over a lady's lap and have his ass slammed. Brittany and her sister would probably come home to end up watching the rest of it, leaving Rory in lasting humiliation that was from a worthless and unnecessary cause.

But, at the same time, Rory had been very guilty. He had done wrong. He was sassy with his teachers all day, he had an attitude with Will and Finn when they were helping him out, he ranted and cussed to Mrs. Pierce, then denying his punishment.

He looked at his lap. "I am sorry, Mrs. Pierce." He closed his eyes, crossing his arms in utter shame. "I am so sorry. When we get home, I will accept my punishment maturely and I will not talk back or disrespect you."

"It is okay, Rory," she sighed.

"Do you need to do chores?"

"No. I have no paperwork, so I was planning on going home and just relaxing by the TV, but it was cancelled when I found out I had to deal with your sassy, bratty ass. But it's okay. Nothing to do about it now."

"I am so very sorry. After all I have done, I do not want you to waste time on me. Is there a way that maybe you could do your own thing, and under your supervision, I could spank myself? I can do it really hard."

"No, I am spanking you. I can do it harder. Because of the issue at bedtime last night, the issue at 3 AM today, reports of Figgins from earlier, and the happenings of now, you are getting fifty spanks. If you aren't a problem, you will get thirty spanks and simple corner time for five minutes."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, and that is a good idea. Next time you act up in public, you will have to slap yourself on the ass four times. Hopefully that will discourage you. You are very rude, and this behavior is not acceptable, mister. You're glad your mother doesn't know. You would get a good paddling."

"Speaking of paddle, what will you be using?"

"Not sure. I guess we will do a test on your arm and see which utensil stings or hurts most."

Rory did not know why he had been discussing this, or how the conversation came to be. Possibly, his sub-conscience was trying to find a way to befriend Mrs. Pierce to get on a good side.

No. He did not deserve this! Why was he even letting her consider this "fifty spanks" shit?! "No. No. No."

"What, Rory?"

"No."

"'No' what, Rory?"

"You're not spanking me. Not again."

"Yes, I am, hon." She didn't even glance at him.

"I do not deserve it."

"Oh, how come?"

"I just do not." Rory pouted, with his arms crossed and lips out.

"You are taking a nap when we get home. Most certainly. Forget the spanking for now. I think you just need a good sleep."


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own glee.**

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Rory laid on his bed, pondering.

Earlier that day, many things happened. He was knocked around (literally) by the hockey team, trampled by the teachers with tons of work. Life was unfair to him. But what to do?

Everyone else just seemed to get it their way. When Rory was alikely adopted into the Pierce family and into the American way, he found many things. Brittany had gotten a free "leprechaun" - wishes and daily greetings included - and alike brother. Mrs. Pierce had gotten the chance to have a "son" around after previous conception complications, and not to mention a reliable supervisor for Brittany and a sitter for the young girl. Not just at home either. Finn had went through the honor of gaining a new friend. Santana had received another fun victim to happily torture and hound. Rachel had an opportunity to discover true and purely magical talent, breaking her from her annoying broadway tapes that caused her to be teased. He could list many things that he's done for others. But for some reason, there was nothing he could say for himself. Again, life was fucking unfair to him - and somehow, only him.

Rory tossed a mini football, otherwise soccer ball, to the ceiling. It returned, and he was reaching to catch it when it dropped straight onto nose. He furiously slammed it onto the wall. "Oww, you damn ball! You motherfu-!"

"Rory Flanagan!" he heard Mrs. Pierce yell, in response to the ruckus. "What's going on? Don't make me come up there!"

He grumbled, leaving his room and knocking the door on his way out. He had to leave for some fresh air. He stormed out of the house, when-

"Now, where do you think you're going?" she said, with a wave of her finger. "You are still grounded, mister!"

"That finger belongs in your pussy, blonde bitch!" he exclaimed. "Or, more so, giving a handjob to your boyfriend's cock! So do that, and leave me the hell alone!"

Before he could proceed she grabbed the wallet chain on his jeans and pulled him back. She gave him a swat on the ass, followed by a scold of, "Don't you ever talk to me that way! I am your alike mother, and you should treat me with some damn respect!"

He whimpered when she delivered more punishment of ten spankings.

"Don't cry to me, mister, you brought it on yourself!"

He was then let go, and was able to rub the burning from his ass. He grumbled, being sent to seat on the sofa for a talk.

Soon, an intervention was begun and friends Finn, Sam and Blaine from Glee had stopped by. They discussed some issues resulting in Rory's stress that evolved to anger. Sam had then to make an offer, with a brochure in hand.

"Rory," Sam said, "you have to get it together. The whole club is depending on you."

Blaine added, "If you use your magical voice at Sectionals, even Regionals and Nationals, we can win 1st place. We all need you to step up and do this."

Sam presented the brochure, and Finn explained a large offer.

He had been invited to join Glee members at a spa. Why...? What...? How would he respond? How was he supposed to respond? for the hell of it, because a free massage and tan sounded nice, he accepted the trip.


End file.
